Stony Creek Ravine Nature Park is a small park with big contrasts – between the sunlit, gently rolling meadow and the forest with large trees grasping the steep slope that plunges down to the creek stippled with sunlight below. It’s a fairly short walk, just in and out, for now. Eventually, we hope this elbow of a park will be joined to 208 spectacular acres to the east, now being acquired by our Parks & Recreation Commission. So I’d suggest you see it soon, so you can say you “knew it when!”

An Undulating Path through a Meadow of Fluttering Wings

The trail begins in a grove of trees at the end of Knob Creek Drive with its single parking space. A few years ago, Stewardship Manager Dr. Ben VanderWeide removed walls of invasive shrubs that crowded the edges of the trail into the park, obscuring the meadow. Now when I step into the park, the landscape is open to fields filled with tall flowers and sunlight. The meadow is an exuberant, dense tangle of native and non-native wildflowers – and a lot of thistle! But the butterflies and bees make do with what they find and they are everywhere! So I periodically ventured out as far as possible into the shoulder-high plants to get a little closer!

Cam among the incredibly tall flowers and thistles of the meadow at Stony Creek Ravine.

Ben had reported seeing lots of GiantSwallowtails (Papilio cresphontes) on thistles at the park. Having seen them there in previous years, I was excited to look for them. But after a very hot week, they had evidently moved on to greener pastures. I only saw one at an unreachable distance across the meadow on my first visit. But since I saw many of them later at Charles Ilsley Park, here’s a photo of one to refresh your memory. Pretty impressive size, eh? They are actually the largest butterfly in North America!

Giant Swallowtail butterflies seem to be coming to our area in increasing numbers.

My birding friend, Bob Bonin, also saw something at Stony Creek in August that I only saw from a distance. I had a quick glimpse of a Snowberry Clearwing Moth (Hemaris diffinis) but couldn’t wade fast enough into the greenery to catch a shot of it. Bob generously shared his beautiful shot of one feeding on the last drops of nectar from a native Bee Balm (Monarda fistulosa). Clearwings lose some of the wing scales due to their hummingbird-style, hovering flight, leaving areas of their wings almost transparent. The yellow and black fuzziness of the Snowberry Clearwing (Snowberry is one of its host plants) means that it’s often mistaken for a bumblebee – perhaps providing some protection from predators.

The Snowberry Clearwing Moth can be mistaken for a bumblebee. Photo at Stony Creek Ravine Nature Park by Bob Bonin, used with permission

Native bee-balm also prompted a stopover by the Silver-spottedSkipper (Epargyreus clarus) which, according to Wikipedia, prefers to hang from the underside of leaves at night or on hot and humid days. Bee-balm, true to its name, attracts many native insects, including the ubiquitous native Bumblebees (genus Bombus). (Click on photos to enlarge; hover cursor for captions.)

A Silver-spotted Skipper feeding on native Bee-balm, a perennial favorite with butterflies.

Bumblebees are always busy on native Bee-balm.

For the first time ever, I noticed European Honeybees (Apis mellifera) literally running around the tops of non-native Queen Anne’s Lace. I’d never before noticed this “busy bee” activity! They rush across each lacy blossom, perhaps quickly gathering nectar or pollen. Bee Culture, a beekeeping magazine, says that Queen Anne’s Lace produces the greatest amount of nectar in hot weather, so perhaps that’s what attracted them. Let me know in the comments if you have more info than I could find on this phenomenon. Here’s my amateur video of the bee race at Stony Creek Ravine.

It’s always heartening to see Monarch Butterflies (Danaus plexippus) in our parks, especially a female one sipping on Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), its favorite host plant on which to lay eggs!

A female Monarch on Common Milkweed! Every year our parks do their part to protect this beloved species.

The Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus) is a generalist who can live in lots of habitats, from forests to meadows to urban areas. Its caterpillar can eat and grow on many of the trees in our parks, including Wild Black Cherry, Willows, Cottonwoods and Tulip Trees (see below!), but also on non-native plants like Lilacs. This adaptability means it’s thriving, and that made me glad as it paused so delicately to sip from the only tender part of a Plumeless Thistle (Carduus acanthoides).

A Great Spangled Fritillary (Speyeria cybele) looked a bit ragged and uncomfortable one humid afternoon. I wonder if it had landed on too many prickly, bristly plants like the Plumeless Thistle! Most of the “spangles” are on the underside of the hindwings, so I’ve included an older photo to show them, since this butterfly clearly had no attention of feeding with its wings up.

A Great Spangled Fritillary on a very uncomfortable plant!Most of the silver spangles on a Great Spangled Fritillary are on the underside of the hindwings.

A Red-spotted Purple (Limenitis arthemis) paused on non-native Queen Anne’s Lace (Daucus carota). It prefers rotted fruit or even dung and carrion, but occasionally it sips nectar from small white flowers like these, according to the citizen science website, butterfliesandmoths.org. These butterflies sometimes produce two broods. The first caterpillars hatch and once half-grown, form a “hibernaculum,” an over-wintering refuge which for caterpillars usually involves a folded leaf and some spun silk to secure it. They then emerge in the spring and finish maturing. According to Wikipedia, some of the first larvae “are able to mature during the summer, so they emerge as the second brood [in] early fall,” but may have a tough time surviving winter cold. The prime condition of the butterfly below makes me wonder if it was from an early second hatch.

A Red-spotted Purple rests on a non-native Queen Anne’s Lace.

Some small butterflies also made the most of the late summer meadow. The common and colorful Pearl Crescent (Phyciodes tharos) landed repeatedly on the path in front of me, as they often do. These very small butterflies can mate many times between April and November so we’re almost bound to see one on any summer walk in our parks. And we’re also likely to see the non-native Cabbage Butterfly (Pieris rapae). I just love the sculptural look of the ventral (underside) of the wings on the one below. I think she’s a female since I can just make out the double wing spots on the dorsal (upper side); males have only one spot.

This may be a female Pearl Crescent since the wing margins are not thick and dark like the male’s.

The Cabbage butterfly is a non-native accidentally introduced from Europe about 1860 and now present in most of North America.

Right now, you’ll probably see a creature along the trail that looks like a butterfly with its black wings edged in beige, but is really the Carolina Locust (Dissosteira carolina). Despite seeing them every summer, I’ve never gotten a shot of their sudden flights from under my feet. So I can only show you what they look like once they land. But I’ve borrowed with permission a photo from an iNaturalist.org photographer, Joshua G. Smith, who held one in his hand to get a photo of the wing.

A Carolina Locust can sail on its stiff wings for surprisingly long distances.

Joshua G Smiths’ photo of its wing (CC-BY-NC)

The Woods, the Deer Effect and a Bubbling Creek Below

A panorama of the woods where it begins to slope toward Stony Creek

The woods at Stony Creek Ravine Nature Park is full of big oaks and some beautiful native Tulip Trees (Lirodendron tulipfera)! These are not the shorter, heavy flowering cultivated trees that I grew up seeing in people’s yards. These mighty trees grow beautifully straight and tall often with few limbs once they reach 80-100 feet. In virgin habitat, they can grow to 160 feet and their girth can be as wide as 10 feet! According to Ben, there’s a huge one on the new piece of property that is planned to eventually connect with the existing 60 acre park. I hope someday I’ll be able to see it and show it to you here!

Tulip trees were once valued as timber because they grow straight and tall with few limbs until they are 80-100 feet tall.

Wild tulip trees (vs. nursery cultivated ones) only bloom at the top of the tree, so their glamorous flowers are rarely seen, but are rich with nectar. Their bark is ridged in an orderly pattern. The leaves have a unique, squared-off shape. And the graceful, seed-filled cones stay on the tree all winter only falling to the forest floor in the spring. I have never seen the flowers up close or the cones, so my thanks go to iNaturalist.org photographers kwilie and Sandy Wolkenberg for sharing the bloom and cone photos below. We’re lucky to see Tulip trees here because we are at the far north edge of their range. Can you tell I’ve found a new favorite native tree?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The forest floor beneath the impressive trees, though, is almost barren. The shade of course is very dense. But a huge problem is that, despite a limited hunting season in this park two days each week in from October to January, the deer are plentiful. As a result, few woodland plants reach maturity on the forest floor. Deer have no front teeth, so the stems left on the plants they graze are ripped and flattened as seen below. Rabbits, for instance, with their incisors, make a neat, angular cut. But hope springs eternal! Though most tulip tree seeds don’t survive, I found a small sapling that somehow had escaped the notice of the deer -so far.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

As you hike down to the creek, more grasses appear. The creek’s moisture encourages some flowers, especially in the spring when the trees haven’t leafed out and more sunlight reaches the forest floor. In summer, the moist river bank is a hangout for damselflies. One warm, gray afternoon, I saw a female Ebony Jewel Wing (Calopteryx maculata) looking at me head-on from a fallen branch.

A female Ebony Jewelwing damselfly looked at me intently!

Her mate is a bit more glamorous, but I also like the elegant understatement of the female.

The female Ebony Jewelwing above in profile.

One of many male Ebony Jewelwing damselflies by the creek last year.

The west branch of Stony Creek burbles along, tumbling over rocks, slipping under fallen trees, catching glints of sunlight on its surface. And beneath the surface, small fish school in the shallows.

Small fish schooling in the clear water of Stony Creek as it runs through the ravine.

Deep in the woods on the far side of the creek, the shriek of a young Red-tailed Hawk begging to be fed grated upon my ears. Young hawks can repeat this harsh cry for 4 to 6 weeks! I know what adult hawks are dealing with, because in some years, a young hawk subjects my husband and I to their cries from the field next to our house! But hawks believe in tough love and eventually it gets hungry enough, I guess, to do its own hunting. Here’s my recording at Stony Creek Ravine Nature Park.

The youngster was nowhere in sight, but here’s a photo of one taken along Predmore Road near Lost Lake Park in 2017.

Red-tailed Hawk juvenile near Lost Lake in 2017

On a later visit, I was startled by a flash of huge wings, as a young hawk (I think!) flashed across the path in front of me and stumbled into a tree much too small for its size and weight. It wobbled back and forth on a thin branch for a few seconds. But before I raised my camera, it lumbered up into the air and soared off into the woods on the far side of the meadow. As far as I could tell this “desperate escape” was caused by the harassing pursuit of a single Blue Jay (Cyanocitta cristata) – hardly the behavior of an adult hawk! Like a lot of adolescents, this young bird just needs a bit more time to grow up.

Back Up in the Meadow – Baby Birds and a Fun Baby Insect

It’s a steep climb out of the ravine, up through the woods to the path and the sunlit meadow. Back on the trail, I noticed out in the meadow a few fledglings learning to make their own way in the world. A juvenile Eastern Bluebird (Sialia sialis) still sported the fledgling’s dappled chest, a field mark common to other members of the thrush family. It had landed high on the bare branch of a snag to survey the field, looking quite confident that it could survive on its own.

A Bluebird fledgling out on its own and surveying its world.

A little Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia) popped up out of the greenery, looking like a plush toy! Donald W. Stokes’ Guide to Bird Behavior (Vol. 1) points out that a good field mark for juveniles is that their tails are about half the size of an adult Song Sparrow. Next spring, this little sparrow will look for a nesting site within its “song neighborhood,” i.e. close to the the place where adult birds sing the songs that it heard and memorized as a nestling. According to this Cornell Ornithology Bird Academy website, juvenile male sparrows need to practice for several months before they can sing their repertoire perfectly – sort of like babies babbling before talking.

A Song Sparrow fledgling learns its song repertoire from neighboring adults while still in the nest.

Far out in the meadow, I saw a hard-working male American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis) traveling about with a juvenile. Male Goldfinches do most of the fledgling feeding because the females are busy with a second clutch of eggs. Goldfinches wait to breed until mid-summer when thistles provide them with fluffy pappus (downy plant material) to make an almost water-tight nest lining. Then they feed their young with partially digested thistle seed. I could hear an insistent fledgling calling to be fed and could see the adult male flying to meet it. Each time, the two of them disappeared into the greenery for a meal. I moved further into the dense undergrowth, trying to see the adult feeding the youngster. Finally, the fledgling, alone again, came out onto a bare tree stem and diligently chewed at its tip. My best guess is that this behavior is a way to practice stripping hulls from the seeds that make up almost all of a goldfinch’s diet. But I’m not sure, though I’ve seen two young goldfinches do this in the last week!

A juvenile Goldfinch gnaws the end of a stem, perhaps practice for removing hulls from seeds in the future.

Out in the field, the adult male Goldfinch hopped about on a thistle, filling his beak with seed to share with the youngster. I believe the thistle he chose is again Plumeless Thistle. At least it appears to feed the birds and butterflies!

A Goldfinch male filling his beak with native seed from a Plumeless Thistle to share with his nearby fledgling.

The birds will be able to enjoy a treat before too long, because a big, energetic patch of American Pokeweed (Phytolacca americana) with its Dr. Seuss-style color scheme has appeared along the trail! The green berries in the photo below will gradually turn white and then deep purplish-black. When ripe, they are much beloved by birds, particularly the Gray Catbird, Brown Thrasher, Northern Cardinal and the Northern Mockingbird, according to Wikipedia. However, they are highly toxic to most mammals, including us humans! So admire them, but no snacking, not even one!

Pokeweed berries are beloved by birds but highly toxic to most mammals, including us.

Pokeweed growing vigorously along the path at Stony Creek Ravine

On the way back to the car, I spotted one of the largest and most graceful nests of EasternTent Caterpillars (Malacosoma americanum) I’ve ever seen. These gregarious caterpillars head out each morning to forage together and return to their tents at night. The tents are added to each day before they leave, so they have multiple layers. As a result, the caterpillars can go to different parts of the tent for heating or cooling. Though their feeding can defoliate trees, they cause little permanent damage and the trees generally re-leaf once they’re gone.

This tent is almost empty probably because in the morning, the Tent Caterpillars leave en masse to find food together.

My forays deeper into the meadow left me with socks covered in burs and sticky seeds. So on my way back to the car, I stopped at the beautiful bench commemorating the Kezlarian’s generosity toward this park. Along with the burs, I plucked a small caterpillar from one sock and set it on the bench. To my delight, it quickly began scooting around on the granite at a rapid pace. I laughed out loud! It was an inchworm! I looked them up when I got home and discovered they are caterpillars of the large and diverse moth family, Geometridae. Here’s the 30 second video I took of it that still tickles me. (It should have some cartoon music in the background, but again, I’m a complete beginner at videography!)

By the way, after filming, I let it climb on a dry leaf, carried it to a nice green one and wished it well.

The Persistence of Nature as a Challenge to Care

Water flows around a bend in Stony Creek Ravine Nature Park.

Places like Stony Creek Ravine Nature Park strengthen my hope when life feels challenging. The intense July heat – reportedly the hottest July in history worldwide! – finished the bloom of many flowers that might have lasted longer in a normal year. But honey bees rush about on less nectar-rich blooms, trying to gather their much-needed supply of pollen to feed the young or the nectar for making honey to feed the over-wintering colony. Some butterflies make their way across great distances in unpredictable weather, seeking out available nectar to feed themselves and suitable host plants for their eggs. Young birds exercise their new skills, learning within weeks how to forage on their own in a landscape shaped by the changing climate. The glimmering creek down in the shadows of the forest rises and falls with the rainfall, but, for now, flows on.

This same persistence, I think, also challenges us to do what we can to cool our planet and return to the patterns that nature has bequeathed to us through eons of experimentation. We owe it to the wildflowers, bees, butterflies – all of the natural world that supports us – to shape our lives not just to our human needs, but the needs of all the living beings that share this little blue planet with us. The township stewardship program is working on that, I’m working on that – and I bet you are, too. Let’s press on!

A small doe with her two fawns, one nursing, on the path behind the Center Pond one hot Sunday afternoon

Take a walk down the Walnut Lane in the center of Bear Creek. Contemplate the marsh on an early July morning when the heat is building for a blistering afternoon. Laugh at the bulging yellow throats expelling frog song at the Center Pond.

Blog post and photos by Cam Mannino

You simply can’t miss summer youngsters sallying forth to explore the world. Frog eggs, fledglings, fawns, ducklings, floating, flying or running with tails in the air – young creatures are setting out to explore their world. And the wildflowers!! The flowers that declare “IT’S SUMMER!” are spattering color across the meadows, under the trees and along the damp shores of the wetlands. It’s a season for hot sun, cool shade, “bug juice” protection after a rain – and celebrating all the life just burgeoning forth all around you.

High Summer in the Meadows

Up on the highest point, overlooking the rolling old fields of Bear Creek, tall native flowers sway and nod in the summer sunlight. Native Prairie Dock (Silphium terebinthinaceum)established its giant, sandpaper-and-leather leaves (up to 1.5 feet high and 1 ft wide!) last month.

Prairie Dock’s giant leaf with the stem and bud just forming earlier in the summer

Prairie Dock thrives after fire, so this spring’s prescribed burn really encouraged this wonderful native plant. It may be that it grows tall in order to get its flowers above tall prairie grasses, like Big Bluestem(Andropogon gerardii)which is also sprouting around the park since the burn. Naked Prairie Dock stems shoot up to 10 feet in the air topped by ball-shaped buds and bright yellow flowers. All kinds of bees probe the blossoms – and occasionally hummingbirds and as well, according to the website www.illinoiswildflowers.info (a fave site for detailed wildflower information).

The bare stems of native Prairie Dock with ball-shaped buds and bright yellow flowers shoot up to 10 feet in the air!

Just below them, the Yellow Coneflowers (Ratibida pinnata) dance with every passing breeze. These prairie natives actually prefer dry soil and are easy to grow if you’re considering a native garden. Just give them plenty of sun!

Native yellow coneflower is blooming below and around the giant Prairie Dock up on the south hill.

Along the trails, Wild Bee Balm/Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa)also welcomes bees, of course. In fact one small bee (Monarda dufourea)specializes in pollinating this native member of the mint family.

Wild Bee Balm/Bergamot is a native that attracts all kinds of bees, even one who specializes in it!

Brilliant orange Butterfly Milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) dots the fields with its bright orange fireworks. This native, often mistaken for the western plant Indian Paintbrush , lives up to its name. Butterflies love it, Monarchs included. Mammals avoid it, so it also gets planted in native gardens.

Butterfly milkweed dots the fields with its orange fireworks and makes graceful, curved seedpods in the autumn.

Of course, the fields are full of summer birds and their young as well. A male Baltimore Oriole (Icterus galbula) hopped from limb to limb at the far edge of the Eastern Path, busy finding insects for his young who fluttered along behind (juvenile not pictured here.)

A Baltimore Oriole busily searches for insects to feed his young.

I caught a photo of what appears to be a Baltimore Oriole fledgling venturing out to find food on her own one rainy morning.

Young Baltimore Oriole exploring the world one rainy morning.

A male Brown-headed Cowbird (Molothrus ater) postured in a tree, throwing his head back to impress a competitor who assiduously ignored him.

After repeatedly seeing the flashing white patch above the tail of Northern Flickers (Colaptes auratus) as they fly up from the field to the trees in Bear Creek, I finally caught one sitting in the grass near home. These elegantly colored woodpeckers most often eat on the ground, probing for ants in the soil with their long beaks and then licking them up quickly with their barbed tongues.

The black “mustache” means this Northern Flicker, searching for ants in the grass, is a male.

The Rose-breasted Grosbeak sings his lovely, intricate song off and on all day, and to my ear, a mellower version at sunset.

Male House Finches also sing cheerily in small bushes and trees. Their red feathers seem particularly intense this year which Cornell Lab says is due to the pigment in their diet during their spring molt. Something certainly livened up the color of this male!

The bright red of this male House Finch is created by the pigments in its diet during the molt.

The female House Finch wears a more sedate outfit. Here’s one fluffing up her feathers in preparation for some serious preening.

A female House Finch prepares for preening her wing feathers..

Butterflies also grace the meadows as they flutter among the blossoms. Though we associate Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca)with their importance to Monarchs (Danaus plexippus), this native plant hosts myriad butterflies. Here a male Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus) sips its nectar on a hot afternoon.

A male Eastern Tiger Swallowtail has blue patches with orange spots at the edge of its beautifully striped wings.

And nearby, a Great Spangled Fritillary (Speyeria cybele) did the same. It’s wonderful how native plants provide a natural food source for so much of our native wildlife.

A Great Spangled Fritillary probes for nectar on native Common Milkweed along the Eastern Path.

This fancy insect, the Red Milkweed Beetle ((Tetraopes tetrophthalmus), is munching the milkweed’s leaves. Doesn’t it look like a cartoon bug with its ruffled skirt and lo-o-ong, curved “horns”?

The Red Milkweed Beetle is toxic from eating milkweed and its bright colors warn predators of that fact.

According to the “Bug Lady” at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, “Adult RMBs…can get away with being red and black in a green world because milkweeds are toxic, and so, therefore, are RMBs, and red and black are … aposematic (warning) colors.” If insects intrigue you, as they occasionally do me, read more about this cool bug at the Bug Lady’s link. This insect evidently “purrs,” wipes its face on a leaf if it gets too much “milk” on its mouth to prevent having it glued shut (!) and has a really interesting life cycle!

On the other side of the park, native Staghorn Sumac‘s (Rhus typhina )scarlet fruits are already shining among deep green leaves at the edge of the Western Slope.

The glamorous red fruits of the Staghorn Sumac on the western edge of the park.

High Summer Between the Sunny Fields and the Shade

As you stroll toward the more moist and shady areas of the park, other creatures and wildflowers greet you as you move in and out of the bright sunlight and shade. A beautiful milkweed that loves having moist “feet,” the Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) grows among the reeds and cat-tails along the Eastern Path and across the boardwalk from the Playground Pond. Ben VanderWeide, our township Stewardship Manager, tells me that it makes a better garden plant than Common Milkweed, because this pretty plant grows in well-behaved clumps. Here’s one about to bloom.

A Swamp Milkweed about to bloom. Some lovers of native wildflowers are hoping to give it the more glamorous name, “Rose Milkweed.” I vote yes!

And another beautiful native member of the milkweed family is also about to bloom. Spotted Joe Pye (Eutrochium maculatum) now shows its blushing green leaves and soon its pink blossoms and purple stems will be ready for close viewing at the southern entrance to Bear Creek Marsh.

Joe Pye will soon be blooming near the deck at the southern entrance to Bear Creek Marsh.

Of course non-natives add splashes of color at the moist border between field and forest, as well. Settlers brought to their gardens many plants with “wort” in their name, believing they had medicinal value. Here are a couple non-native “wort” plants – Common St. John’s Wort (Hypericum perforatum) on the left and Motherwort (Leonurus cardiaca) on the right. (Hover cursor for caption; click to enlarge.)

Though native St. John’s Wort exists in our parks, this one is a non-native, Common St. John’s Wort

Motherwort is one of many non-native plants brought to Michigan in the belief that they had medicinal value, like other “wort” plants.

A creature that loves dappled light, an Ebony Jewelwing damselfly (Calopteryx maculata), pauses for a moment in bright sunlight, showing the complex color of those normally very dark wings. This seems to be a female because her abdomen is not metallic blue like the male and her wings are tipped with white dots.

A female Ebony Jewelwing damselfly has a duller abdomen and white dots on the tips of her wings.

One morning while birding on the northern loop of the park, a Ctencuha Moth landed on Ben and posed for a few moments. What a striking moth with dark wings set off by yellow and light blue on the thorax and head – and its iridescent blue body blazes forth when it takes flight!

This beautiful Ctenucha Moth has an iridescent blue body best seen when it flies.

High Summer in the Pond and the Marsh

Of course, really wet areas of Bear Creek have high summer flora and fauna all their own. Hundreds of Green Frogs (Rana clamitans) emerged last week. And suddenly all you could see at the Center Pond were their bulging yellow throats as they produced what could literally be called “full-throated” frogsong. There were so many that they were chasing each other through the water in competition for mates.

Green Frog preparing to sing

A literally “full-throated” song

Apparently, some Green Frogs are already laying eggs. In this photo, each dark dot is a frog embryo surrounded by protective, clear “jelly” in a mass which is called “frogspawn.” Each female frog can lay from 1,000 to 7,000 eggs – but only about five become adult frogs. Frog eggs and tadpoles are a food source for many creatures – fish, birds, and dragonflies among others. About a week from now, the tiny tadpoles will emerge.

Frog eggs float in their gelatin just below the water surface at the Center Pond while Water Striders (family Gerridae) move across the surface above.

It appears that the family of Wood Ducks (Aix sponsa) that we birders saw earlier at the Playground Pond may have moved to the Center Pond as the fledglings became juveniles. At the far west of the pond, a female carefully supervised five youngsters as they splashed and fed.

A female Wood Duck supervised her five youngsters as they fed and splashed in the Center Pond.

The Center Pond also had a dragonfly visitor that I hadn’t identified before. The usual residents, like the Dot-tailed Whiteface Dragonfly (Leucorrhinia intacta), were accompanied bya pair of Blue Dashers (Pachydiplax longipennis) who took turns perching on a branch protruding from the water. This male had probably been nearby since hatching in May, when his abdomen would have been darker blue, but as this dragonfly ages, it “develops a coating of waxy cells that lighten it,” according to my insect “guru,” the University of Wisconsin’s “Bug Lady.”

The Blue Dasher dragonfly’s dark blue abdomen gets paler as the summer wears on. Its head, though, is a lively blue/green and its thorax is beautifully striped.

Before the rains came to break the long dry spell, the Bear Creek Marsh had gone dry, leaving an unhappy young CommonSnapping Turtle (Chelydra serpentina) stranded in the drying mud. It was still moving but very slowly. It looked much happier two days later after a long, overnight rain put some water back into the marsh!

Young snapper trying to stay cool in the mud as the marsh dried out in hot weather.

It looked much happier steaming through the greening surface of the marsh after a rain.

One hot Sunday afternoon, my husband and I spotted an unfamiliar bird across the water near the reeds. I didn’t get a great shot; my lens just didn’t reach far enough. I’m not sure if this is sandpiper or some other shore bird, but I’m open to suggestions. [Edit: Expert birder Ruth Glass identifies this bird as a Solitary Sandpiper (Tringa solitaria). Thank you, Ruth!]

I saw this shore bird in the distance at the marsh. Anybody have an ID suggestion? [Edit: Expert birder Ruth Glass identified this as a Solitary Sandpiper]The marsh, too, has its high summer blooms. Sedges of various kinds sink their roots in the mud around the northern deck. I’m getting more interested in the wide variety of these ancient plants from the genus Carex. Common Bur-Reed plants are decorated with spiky spherical fruits. Aren’t they cool shapes?

A very cool Common Bur-Reed in the Bear Creek Marsh

Might be a sedge called Carex comosa that I found in the marsh

Button Bush (Cephalanthus occidentalis), a native shrub with its Sputnik-style blooms, clusters near both entrances to the marsh. Its sputnik-like blooms decorate wetlands and attract native insects all summer and its fruits feed birds throughout the autumn and winter.

Closeup of a Buttonbush blossom

Fresh new Cat-tail heads are developing in the marsh. Male flowers cluster in the spike at the top of the stem, while tiny female flowers form in the thicker section below. While the native species is a beneficial wetland plant, the non-native invasive cattails are often aggressive, especially where lots of nutrients from lawns and roads drain into wetlands.

Cat-tails have male flowers in the spike at the top, female flowers in the thicker section below.

And near the marsh, another summer native, Jewelweed (Impatiens capensis), peeks out of the shade into the sunlight. The stems of this wildflower can reduce the effects of poison ivy if mashed and rubbed against the skin, according to the National Institutes of Health. I just like how it looks! Bees and hummingbirds like the nectar inside.

Jewelweed is also called Touch-me-not, because when mature, the seeds shoot out if touched.

A Perfect Time for Youngsters to Meet Youngsters

A patch of Common Milkweed on the Eastern Path

A breezy, warm afternoon is a perfect time to introduce a child you love to some of nature’s youngsters hatching, flying, swimming and leaping through Bear Creek Nature Park. And along the way, children can sniff the flowers (no picking!), stick a finger in the frogspawn (eeww!), try to imitate birdsong, analyze the clouds – whatever suits the child’s fancy. Nature can fill children with delight, laughter, and wonder if they’re allowed to explore like other small creatures. Hope you and your curious youngsters get acquainted with Bear Creek’s wild youngsters and both get to spread their wings and explore high summer in the park.

Footnote: My sources for information are as follows: Ritland, D. B., & Brower, L. P. (1991); Stokes Nature Guides: A Guide to Bird Behavior Volumes 1-3, Allaboutbirds.org, the website of the Cornell Ornithology Lab at Cornell University; Wikipedia; http://www.butterfliesandmoths.org; Herbarium of the University of Michigan at michiganflora.net; various Michigan Field Guides by Stan Tekiela; Butterflies of Michigan Field Guide by Jaret C. Daniels; University of Wisconsin's Bug Lady at www4.uwm.edu/fieldstation/naturalhistory/bugoftheweek/ for insect info; http://www.migrationresearch.org/mbo/id/rbgr.html for migration info; invaluable wildflower identification from local expert, Maryann Whitman; experienced birder Ruth Glass, bird walk leader at Stoney Creek Metro Park for bird identification; Birds of North America Online; Audubon.org; Nature in Winter by Donald Stokes, Trees in My Forest by Bernd Heinrich, Winter World by Bernd Heinrich, Savannah River Ecology Lab (Univ of Georgia); Tortoise Trust website www.tortoisetrust.org; An Orchard Invisible: A Natural History of Seeds by Jonathan Silvertown; The Ecology of Plants by Gurevitch, Scheiner and Fox; other sites as cited in the text.

The golden western slope of Bear Creek from the northern end – full of Monarch butterflies this week.Blog post and photos by Cam Mannino

Open fields edged by trees have always been favorite places of mine. And this Tuesday,in the fields on either side of the park, Monarch butterflies were everywhere! Bear Creek may be hosting fall migrators on their way to Mexico – or we’ve just had a big hatch of these beautiful and ecologically fragile creatures. In fact, many butterflies, bees and darners fluttered, hummed and hovered over the swaying seas of gold in Bear Creek, while grasshoppers serenaded them beneath the tall stems.

Some speculate that humans love open fields because our ancient ancestors felt safe where they could see into the distance but escape into the trees. I just know I’m very happy in a field full of wildflowers.

First, of course: The Monarchs and the Hummer!

After only seeing the occasional Monarch Butterfly (Danaus plexippus) this summer, on Tuesday they were floating and fluttering all over the park! Though the Joe Pye (Eutrochium maculatum) in the Eastern Old field seems to be past its peak, its nectar drew in a Monarch (and other butterflies below) anyway.

A monarch explores the fading Joe Pye for a sip of nectar.

I considered myself lucky to get so close – but when I started down the Western Sloping Path from north to south, wow! Monarchs surrounded me every step of the way. I believe I saw at least a dozen there, but I’ll share just a few who were enjoying the New England Asters.

A female Monarch on a New England AsterA female Monarch butterfly dangles from a clump of New England Asters.

At the very bottom of the sloping path, I watched as two Monarchs approached and fed on the same plant.

Two monarchs share a New England aster plant.

Just at that special moment, I saw the second Ruby-Throated Hummingbird (Archilochus colubris) I’ve ever seen at Bear Creek – a female, hovering momentarily as she looked at me and then zoomed off toward the woods. No photo, of course, but perhaps this silhouette of a hummer in mid-hover from a few years ago will help you visualize the one I saw this week.

A female Ruby-throated Hummingbird paused in mid-flight at the bottom of the Western Sloping Path

Fields Full of Wildflowers and their Beautiful Visitors

Eastern Tiger Swallowtails (Papilio glaucus) fluttered quickly across the golden fields. I just caught sight of one in the far distance on the Eastern Path on Sunday so here’s a picture from another August, when a male landed on Spotted Knapweed, an invasive wildflower.

A Tiger Swallowtail lands on Spotted Knapweed, an invasive wildflower from Eurasia.

New England Asters (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae) increasingly complement the Goldenrods’ glow as these vivid native flowers grow tall to reach their share of the thinning sunlight.

Asters have grown tall this year competing with the height of Goldenrod and complementing its color.

A Great Spangled Fritillary in the Eastern field paused on fading blossoms of Joe Pye to take a sip, just like the Monarch did.

A Great Spangled Fritillary pauses to sample the fading blossoms of Joe Pye Weed.

And the Silver-spotted Skipper (Epargyreus clarus) rested beneath a blossom of the same plant.

A Silver-spotted Skipper explores the possibilities of the Joe Pye by hanging from a fading blossom.

About That Hum in the Old Fields…

Honey Bees (Apis mellifera), native Bumblebees (genus Bombus) and even Eastern Yellow Jacket Wasps (Vespula maculifrons ) hum among the flowers in the Old Fields. Don’t worry; they’re much too busy gathering pollen, or in the case of wasps, eating nectar, to bother with us humans.

A Honey Bee making the most of late season pollen on a Canada Goldenrod.

Always on the lookout for a quick munch, the big Canada Darner Dragonfly (Aeshna canadensis) zooms and dives over the blossoms below. This B-52 of insects consumes a lot of late summer bugs.

A Canada Darner flew over the reeds next to the Eastern Path, scouting for unwary insects.

Below the Darner, a modest wet-footed flower stands among the wetland reeds in the Eastern Old Field. According to Wikipedia, Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) got its name because our ancestors believed that since the leaves clasped the stem “wrapping the leaves in bandages around splints would help mend broken bones.”

Reportedly Boneset got its name from a past belief that because the leaves clasp the stem, it would help with mending broken bones.

Down in the grass, the Red-legged Grasshoppers (Melanoplus femurrubrum) sing lustily as a backdrop to all this beauty by rubbing their rasp-like back leg against their forewing.

Red-legged grasshoppers chirp in the grass, preparing to mate and lay their eggs in the soil for next year.

A Bumblebee buzzed softly as it balanced carefully at the top of a stem of Canada Goldenrod

A bumblebee balancing on the tip of a Goldenrod stem.

Yellow Jackets, like all wasps, don’t do much pollinating because they lack the fuzzy body hair of bees. They generally eat nectar but collect bugs for the protein they feed to their young.

A Yellow Jacket Wasp explores a tiny blossom of Queen Anne’s Lace.

What’s That Bump on the Goldenrod, Anyway?

As you’re wandering through the Old Fields, you may have noticed some strange shapes on the stalks and tips of Canada Goldenrod (Solidago canadensis).Galls are growths on plant stems caused by insects who lay their eggs on the plants in the spring. When the larva hatch, they eat into the plant, causing it to form a gall around them. Inside, the larva eats until late summer when it forms a pupa which spends the winter inside that protective covering. In spring, the adult insect emerges to restart the life cycle. Galls don’t kill the Goldenrod; they just look funny!

The ball gall is the most common goldenrod gall and is formed by the small Goldenrod Gall Fly (Eurosta solidaginis). With its hard surface, this gall seems like a decent place to spend the winter, doesn’t it? During the summer, though, some wasps lay eggs in galls and their larvae hatch and make a meal of the gall fly’s. And in the winter, Downy Woodpeckers drill holes in galls to reach the pupae, and Gray Squirrels chew on galls to do the same. Obviously enough Gall Flies survive in these dwellings to start a new crop next spring, so nature stays in balance. I think this gall may have been invaded by a wasp.

A ball Goldenrod gall formed by the larva of a Goldenrod Gall Fly who turns into a pupa and spends the winter there – though the holes indicate that perhaps a wasp has invaded this gall and its larva may have eaten the gall fly’s.

Goldenrods also harbor the very tiny (.2″) Goldenrod Gall Midge (Rhopalomyia solidaginis) which causes a rosette gall. Once the grub of this tiny creature hatches, the stem of the goldenrod generally stops growing but keeps producing leaves which bunch up and make a nice hiding place for a midge’s larva to grow – along with spiders and other midges who may move in. Sometimes, as in this photo, the stem will continue to grow above the rosette gall, but it’s much more spindly.

A rosette gall on Canada Goldenrod created by a single tiny insect but potentially a hiding place for other midges and spiders as well.

For years I saw willows in the park that seemed to be producing pine cones at the end of their branches. Turns out they’re Willow Pine Cone Galls, made by a tiny (about .2″) midge scientifically known as Rhabdophaga strobiloides. The pine cone-shaped gall that its larva causes can harbor many species. According to the University of Wisconscin-Milwaukee’s Field Station website, “Beetles, caterpillars, sawflies, cynipid wasps, midges, and the eggs of meadow grasshoppers have been found inside pine cone galls.” They’re now on a willow on the west side of the Center Pond and can also be seen in the wetland area east of the Eastern Path.

No, not a pinecone! A Willow Pine Cone gall that can harbor over 30 different species besides the larva of its original midge.

The Eastern Old Field rolls down to the Center Pond and the Western one slopes dramatically to the west. The trails that wind across them are full of strange and beautiful creatures and the plants that feed on and live in them. Walk quietly. Look closely. Listen carefully. And when nature shares a secret with you, please share it with the rest of us.

*Footnote: My sources for information, as well as Oakland Township Stewardship Manager Dr. Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: Ritland, D. B., & Brower, L. P. (1991). The viceroy butterfly is not a Batesian mimic; Stokes Nature Guides: A Guide to Bird Behavior Volumes 1-3, Allaboutbirds.org, the website of the Cornell Ornithology Lab at Cornell University; Wikipedia; http://www.butterfliesandmoths.org; Herbarium of the University of Michigan at michiganflora.net.; various Michigan Field Guides by Stan Tekiela; Butterflies of Michigan Field Guide by Jaret C. Daniels; University of Wisconsin's Bug Lady at www4.uwm.edu/fieldstation/naturalhistory/bugoftheweek/ for beetle info http://www.migrationresearch.org/mbo/id/rbgr.html for migration info, and invaluable wildflower identification from local expert, Maryann Whitman.

The Walnut Lane in the center of the park is a hangout for avian adolescents this time of year. Every few feet you hear or see another fledgling sparring with siblings, practicing a song or poking about for food on their own as their tired parents retreat from constant feeding. Below I’ve provided links to Cornell Ornithology Lab photos of the adult birds so you can see how the juveniles differ from the adults in appearance.

The numbers of the most successful park predator keep growing – and no, it’s not coyotes! And native wildflowers love the second half of the summer (yes, we’re already there!) and are showing their colors everywhere you look.

Avian Adolescents – and one baby…

I have to begin with a nestling. Remember the female Cedar Waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum)on a nest from last week’s post? Well, this week her nestling stuck its little half-masked head above the nest edge so I got to see a Waxwing nestling for the first time! It sure doesn’t look like the elegant bird it will be in a few weeks! It’s still mostly mouth and that beak still looks soft, doesn’t it?

A nestling Cedar Waxwing where I saw the adult female sitting last week.

Amusingly, adolescent birds have the same awkward, gawky, not-quite-put-together look of a human adolescent. And like them, they seem to hang out together – this year, in the lane of Black Walnuts. Here’s a juvenile Gray Catbird (Dumetella carolinensis), a bird which when it matures is sleek with gray feathers and a black cap. This youngster is in shadow, but you can see he still has downy fluff that makes him look a bit like he’s wearing baggy pants!

This juvenile Gray Catbird still has downy leggings instead of the sleek gray shape of an adult. (See link above)

And here’s a young Rose-Breasted Grosbeak (Pheucticus ludovicianus). The juveniles look like their brown-and-white mothers, but I believe that little red dot under this one’s wing tells you it will eventually look like the stunning male at this link – black and white with a hot pink bib at his throat.

This young Rose-Breasted Grosbeak will grow up to be a beautiful black and white male with a rosy pink bib at his throat. (See link above)

This young Downy Woodpecker (Picoides pubescens) looks a bit scraggly, but seemed to be finding all kinds of things to peck at or eat on a walnut tree. I’m thinking it’s just a gawky adolescent.

This juvenile Downy Woodpecker hasn’t quite got the finished look of an adult and is still learning how to find food.

Look at the lovely pattern its wing made as it flew off.

The wing of a young Downy Woodpecker produces a beautiful pattern as it takes flight.

And here’s a home photo of an adult Downy to show how much more “together” an adult downy can look!

An adult Downy Woodpecker looks a bit less at loose ends than the juvenile..

By the way, if you live in a house with wood siding as we do, you may be frustrated by a male Downy drumming on your house. According to Cornell Lab, the Downy isn’t feeding, which means you don’t have bugs in the siding. This is the Downy’s way of singing; it uses percussion to attract a mate. Of course, they’re still making holes in your wood!

New Fierce but Fascinating Predators Arrive at Bear Creek!

I’m referring, of course, to Dragonflies. Right now, the BIGGESTof these drone-like insects, called “Darners” (after the large needles), are hatching out of the ponds and patrolling the fields of Bear Creek. They can be three to five inches long and have a wingspan slightly larger than their body. I’m quite confident that this is a Lance-tipped Darner (Aeshna constricta ) we saw Sunday along the western sloping path. Dragonflies are notoriously difficult to identify, however, so feel free to correct me!

The Lance-tipped Darner is a large dragonfly and like all dragonflies, a wildly successful predator, catching 95% of its prey which, happily, includes mosquitoes!

I’m quite sure that I saw a Swamp Darner (Epiaeschna heros) zooming over the Old Field off the eastern path earlier this week. Here’s a photo of a non-zooming Swamp Darner from a couple of years ago.

Watch for this Swamp Darner who usually appears at the end of July or early August.

Of course, regular dragonflies are hatching out of the ponds as well. Dragonflies successfully snatch out of the air 95% of their prey, (especially mosquitoes!) and consume them on the wing. Lions, for example, only catch their prey 25% of the time and Great White Sharks only 50%, so we’re talking about very successful predators here! How about this face?! This is a common dragonfly, the White-Faced Meadowhawk (Sympetrum obtrusum.)

A White-faced Meadowhawk dragonfly stares me down with its giant eyes which can see you both when heading toward you and flying away from you!

On a sweeter insect note, we also were gifted with the sight of two Great Spangled Fritillaries (Speyeria cybele) mating. We couldn’t determine which gender is larger, but there is quite a size difference! Here are two photos, as they synchronized opening and closing their wings.

Mating Great Spangled FritllariesThe Great Spangled Fritillaries synchronized the opening and closing of their wings while mating.

Native Wildflowers Assert Themselves as the Summer Warms

The second half of the summer ushers in a big bloom of native wildflowers. In the hot sunlight of high summer, prairie flowers flourish, since long ago, much of Oakland Township’s land was prairie. I recommend bringing your lunch, sitting on the hilltop benches at the south end of the park, and just enjoying the Yellow Coneflowers (Ratibida pinnata) as they sway in the wind.

Native Yellow Coneflowers encircle the benches on the hilltop at the south end of the park.

And right across the path, another native, Black-Eyed Susans (Rudbeckia hirta) bloom in happy profusion.

Black-eyed Susans are sometimes confused with Yellow Coneflowers – but now you can compare the two plants near the hilltop benches at the southern end of the park.

Large lavender swaths of Wild Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), also known as Bee Balm, keep company with these other two. This wildflower is certainly a “balm” to bees since you rarely see a group of them without seeing bees busily probing the hearts of these fun, “bad hair day” flowers! Like the native plants I mentioned last week, Bergamot has been considered a medicinal plant and was used as an antiseptic by Native Americans.

Wild Bergamot lives up another of its names, Bee Balm.

CAUTIONARY NOTE FROM OAKLAND TOWNSHIP PARKS AND RECREATION: DO NOT pick or consume wild plants in our parks. In addition to being potentially poisonous, many wild plants are endangered because of over-harvesting. Oakland Township ordinances prohibit removal, destruction, and harvesting of plants within parks. Leave plants for wildlife and other park users to enjoy!

In the native flowerbed near the shed, some glorious plants are blooming for your enjoyment as well. Look at these lovely native False Sunflowers (Heliopsis helianthoides).

False Sunflowers shine gold in the sunlight against the shade of trees near the shed.

And tall plumes of native Meadowsweet (Spiraea alba), standing in the sunlight, hum with pollinating bumblebees.

Tall plumes of native Meadowsweet sway in the sunlight in the native flowerbed near the shed.Native meadowsweet is a perfect spot for a bumblebee carrying a load of pollen.

Nearby, a native plant with an exotic flower also grows tall in the flowerbed by the shed. It’s Wild Senna (Senna hebecarpa) and with a flower like this, it should be called wild!

The exotic-looking flower of Wild Senna growing in the native flowerbed by the shed.

And look how they grow in profusion along the stalk of the plant!

Wild Senna produces lots of blooms right next to the stem.

And here’s one last exotic-looking native shrub that I’ve always loved. My parents backyard which backed up to the Paint Creek Cemetery used to be full of native Staghorn Sumac (Rhus typhina) which always looked to me like it belonged in the tropics! No, it’s not poisonous. Here’s a link where you can see that Poison Sumac looks completely different and lives in wet areas, unlike this sumac that is at the edge of the woods next to the western sloping path.

A native shrub, Staghorn Sumac is a beautiful and benign plant.

Coming Attraction

One of the tallest native wildflowers is just barely starting to bloom among the Yellow Coneflowers at the top of the southern hill. Prairie Dock has HUGE leathery leaves and can reach 10 feet in height. You can see the tall stalk with its round buds towering over the other plants in the sunlit native flower bed near the shed as well.

Prairie Dock towers over the other plants in the native flowerbed near the shed. Those huge, leathery leaves in front are prairie dock plants as well.

Here’s the first beginnings of a bloom out by the benches on the southern hilltop.

Prairie Dock begins to bloom at the end of its gigantic stalk, the tallest wildflower in the park.

So bring a lunch and/or a friend and hang out with the avian adolescents on the lane this week or simply sit on the benches at the top of the southern hill and watch the Yellow Coneflowers sway and listen to the hum of bees in the Bee Balm. You deserve to nourish yourself with a lazy afternoon at Bear Creek Nature Park!